


In The Closet

by amyfortuna (elwinfortuna)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Clothed Top Naked Bottom, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Music, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Makalaurë is seven villages deep into a tour of Valinor when Maitimo catches up with him.
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo/Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluehair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehair/gifts).



Maitimo finally caught up with Makalaurë in the back room of the music hall, making the final adjustments to his harp. With a quick glance around the otherwise empty room, he took Makalaurë by the hand and pulled him into a nearby closet, shutting the door behind them, then bending and kissing his brother soundly, wrapping both arms around him. 

“I’m running late, Maitimo,” Makalaurë said, trying to squirm out of Maitimo’s arms. “Listen, they’re starting to warm up, and I need to join them.” Makalaurë was seven villages deep into the Noldorin countryside, and some of the more talented of the locals were playing with him that night. 

“In a moment,” Maitimo whispered, bending down and pressing warm kisses over Makalaurë’s face, lingering and sweet. A slow scrape of teeth accompanied the final kiss to his jaw, and Makalaurë shivered. “Just a promise, my dearest, of what’s waiting for you tonight.” 

It was as though Makalaure’s protests were forgotten. He arched up against Maitimo’s mouth, begging silently for more. Maitimo smiled against the warm skin of his throat and continued to kiss him, sprinkling small bites and lingering kisses down his neck and over his bared shoulders. Makalaurë’s costume left him bare to the waist, dressed only in a long flowing silken skirt adorned with beaded grasses and leaves. 

Maitimo sank back against the wall and hoisted Makalaurë up in his arms, picking him straight up off the floor, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his hips. It was easier for him to reach Makalaurë’s throat now that his mouth was on a level with it. 

Makalaurë, not to be left out, nipped at the point of Maitimo’s ear, causing Maitimo’s teeth to slip sharply just as he kissed Makalaurë’s neck. “Careful when you do that,” Maitimo whispered. “You’ll have a mark if my teeth slip again.” 

Smiling, Makalaurë drew back a little, looking down at Maitimo. One slender long-fingered hand reached out, tracing over Maitimo’s lips. “I might want you to leave a mark, my Maitimo,” he said softly. “Would you like that? I’ll go and play the harp for adoring crowds, adorned with your bite to my throat, claiming me as yours before the multitudes. They’ll be wondering the whole time who was the lucky one to get to mark me, who’s the lucky one who will be taking me to bed after my latest and greatest performance.”

Maitimo grinned sharply. “Talk like that much more and I will do it,” he said. 

“Do it, I want you to,” Makalaurë said, an air of high excited command in his voice. He let out a sudden long gasp as Maitimo obeyed, teeth pressed hard against the soft skin of his neck, just where it met the shoulder. 

When Maitimo finally pulled away, there was a bright red round bite with the marks of teeth clearly in it showing vividly against Makalaurë’s pale skin. Makalaurë was flushed and breathing fast, and Maitimo could feel his hard cock beneath the flimsy skirt.

As Maitimo set him down and they prepared to leave the closest, Makalaurë laughed, a little nervously. “I’m not sure I’ve ever performed in public with an erection before.”

Maitimo’s answering laugh was bright. “Then this is only justice, because every time I watch you perform, I get one.”

“Until later, then,” Makalaurë said, punctuating the opening of the closet door with a subtle grope to Maitimo’s cock. 

“I’ll be watching you,” Maitimo returned, and waited for a moment to be sure his brother was gone before leaving the closet himself to slip into the audience.

* * *

Makalaurë came out of the hall still floating on waves of musical ecstasy, smiling as he saw Maitimo sitting on a low stone bench in the square outside. 

“My divine Káno,” Maitimo said in a loud voice for the benefit of the people still hanging about, “you must be so weary! We must get you to bed straightaway.” He sprang up from the bench and wrapped an arm around Makalaurë’s shoulders, steering him away from his eager fans toward the inn. “I had the innkeeper put my bags into your room. What good fortune that it has two beds.”

“Indeed,” Makalaurë said, and then, in a whisper in Maitimo’s ear, “not like we’re going to be using them both.” 

The crowd of locals who had been hanging about outside the music hall faded away once the princes disappeared in the direction of the town’s inn. A few of them made their way to the inn’s common room, but were disappointed when Maitimo and Makalaurë did not linger nor join the company but made their way immediately up the stairs toward their shared room. The door closed behind them, and the inn’s patrons began to drown their disappointment in drink and loud songs. 

Inside the room, Maitimo gathered Makalaurë up in his arms, kissing him long and deep, then throwing him down on the nearest bed and tugging off his costume. “You were such a temptation, my Káno,” he said. “Singing such sweet love songs with that wonderful mouth of yours, that mark on your neck, and this,” he palmed Makalaurë’s cock, “clearly ready for action.”

Makalaurë drew him down. “Fuck me, Nelyo. Don’t even take your clothes off. I want you in me now.” He parted his legs to show his hole already glistening with oil. “I went back into that closet and got myself ready for you.” 

Maitimo sucked in a long breath, quickly unbuttoning his trousers. He was bare beneath them, and already iron-hard. He quickly shoved Makalaure’s legs to his shoulders and thrust into him in one long stroke that made Makalaurë groan with intense pleasure. 

He drew almost all the way out, watching Makalaurë’s face, and then slammed home again, making the bed creak with the force of it. 

Once inside, he lingered for a moment, kissing Makalaurë again, delicately pressing his fingers against the mark that lingered on his throat. Makalaurë wrapped his arms around Maitimo and drew him down, whispering soft words calculated to inflame him. "Nelyo, all the time I was playing I was thinking of this. It's your turn to play me, slow and sweet, hard and fast, however you like it." 

Maitimo began a slow rhythm with his hips, in and out, as though he were dancing. Makalaurë arched up beneath him, wordlessly begging for more, unable to control the low moans coming from his mouth. Maitimo grinned. "Am I going to have to silence you, songbird? We don't want to disturb our hosts, do we?" 

"I'll be as quiet as I can be," Makalaurë whispered, panting for breath. "But it's hard when you fuck me like this." 

Maitimo kissed him, then pulled out of him altogether. "Turn over, Káno," he said. "You can bury your cries in the bedclothes that way, and I can fuck you even harder in this position."

Makalaurë groaned but obeyed, and in a moment Maitimo was entering him from behind, setting a quick pace from the very start. Makalaurë dropped his head down into the pillow, stifling his moans, redoubled though they were when Maitimo took his cock in his hand, stroking it up and down with the ease of long familiarity. "Remember our first time?" he asked. "You were so shy but yet so bold and demanding, and I came just from you sitting in my lap and kissing me?" 

Makalaurë was fast losing himself to bliss, but could recall it clearly: a day they were alone in Maitimo's rooms, and he couldn't resist his brother any longer. Climbing into his lap and kissing him, rubbing their erections together through their clothes, and the wet heat of Maitimo's release as he came in his trousers just from the feel of his brother's cock against his own. 

Now Maitimo was hard and hot within him, and his hand was surrounding him, stroking him firmly, in long warm pulls with a twist to the head just as he loved it best. Maitimo knew him inside and out, loved him in every way it was possible to be loved. 

With a last hard thrust of his hips and a long low moan, Maitimo came inside him, and in almost the same moment, Makalaurë followed him, spurting into the sheets, muffling his loud cries in the pillow. Maitimo lowered them both carefully to the bed, pulling out of Makalaurë and wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. 

Makalaurë shuddered with pleasant aftershocks. This had been building for hours now, and he was wonderfully exhausted. "Maitimo," he whispered softly. Maitimo made an inarticulate noise against his shoulder that indicated he was listening. "I have another performance tomorrow, and an even better idea about what you can do to me in that closet beforehand." 

Maitimo smiled, running a hand down Makalaurë's bare thigh. "Oh, so do I. So do I."


End file.
